


Necessity

by Ariana (Ariana_El)



Series: The House of Fëanor chronicles [11]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Bits of fluff, Gen, I have a tiny elfling and I'm not afraid to use it, Lots of Angst, Post Nirnaeth, mistrust between elves and mortals, sequel to Tears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-05-14 22:57:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14778885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ariana_El/pseuds/Ariana
Summary: After the Battle of Unnumbered Tears, the sons of Feanor are trying to gather their elves. However, they are not always welcome and the situation forces them to cooperate with reluctant humans.I placed this story into my serie to help with chronology, but it can be read individually.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story follows my set of post-nirnaeth images posted under the title "Tears", but there is no real need to know that story. It will have three parts and it's already finished, so all I need to do is to translate the remaining two parts.

**Part one**

The news about a village of mortals just a few miles away would be most welcome, had it not been for their current situation and mistrust. They had already learned that while the elves nursed the feeling of betrayal, the humans found the Noldor leaders guilty of leading their sons and husbands to death, as almost none of them had returned after the battle. At best, it was anger, grief and reproaches that the sons of Feanor faced in human villages. At worst – stones, swords and arrows shot from behind them. As they had had a few such unpleasant encounters, the elves avoided any human places, determined to save as many of their own people as possible before the Winter.

They would have passed by this one as well, but they were in a need of a shelter for their wounded. And so they sat in grim silence, trying to get warm in their poor shelter and think of some solution. If they continued their journey, they would probably need some stretchers after a few hours.

“We have to try,” said Caranthir finally, vexed by his brothers’ silence. “The thing is, they cannot figure out who they’re dealing with. So, we have a problem,” he added unnecessarily.

“Hmm?” Maedhros turned his gaze from the fire. “What are you suggesting?”

“That, apart from you and Amras, most of us is able to mingle among others.”

“As long as Moryo stays quiet,” muttered the youngest of the brothers.

“And as long as Tyelko drops his habit of chatting with everything that moves,” retorted Caranthir, offended and irritated. “But to the point. Forgive me, Nelyo, but you can hardly be taken for someone else. And the colour will betray Amras as well.” Their red hair, inherited from their mother, was a rarity among the Noldor and most of the Edain had heard about elven princes ruling Beleriand for the last few centuries.

“I know,” nodded Maedhros wearily. “Perhaps some of us can wait outside the village, while you go to buy some food and ask for shelter,” he suggested, unconvinced.

“We’re too few to split up,” objected Caranthir. “And even if you stay near, there is still a risk that you will be discovered.”

“I’ll stay and put my hood on,” muttered Amras gloomily, visibly discontent with the way this conversation was going. He was sitting in the corner of the half collapsed shed that was probably a temporary shepherd shelter during Summer, leaning against a wall full of holes.

“That won’t be enough.”

“Then I’ll stay here,” insisted Amras. Another blast of wind outside made him shudder and cover himself more tightly with his cloak.

“It’s you who needs a dry bed for a few days,” Caranthir reminded him. “Winter in mountains is going to be more harsh than on your southern lands, and we need to get back before snow falls. We need these few days of rest.”

“Moryo is right,” Maedhros supported him before Amras had a chance to sneer back. “We’ll go and some of us will make a camp outside, if there is not enough place for all of us. The wounded need rest.” He glanced at their companions on the other side of the shed. “To the point. Any suggestions?”

“I have seen mortal women dye their hair with bark,” said Caranthir. “I think it may work with your red as well, so you won’t stick out of the group.”

“We can try in the morning,” agreed Maedhros.

“Try what?” Celegorm joined the conversation, glancing sleepily at his brothers. He was already falling asleep among the rest; they were all weary.

“Doesn’t matter. Sleep,” said Caranthir dismissively. He looked at the wounded and sighed.

They had gone North at the end of the Summer, searching for refugees from Himring and other northern lands, hoping to gather them and lead them south-east, where it was safer. And they had succeeded. Apart from quite well-organized group from Himring, they bumped on several smaller groups they sent later to Dolmed. They intended to spend Winter there, before going South.

They were about to go back, when Celegorm and Amras decided to check one more trail and took their scouts too far.

xxx

_They made it in time. The warriors rushed between orcs and a group of refugees, among which only four were armed. The others backed off, but the steep edge by the river gave them little space for escape._

_The orcs were numerous, Amras had known that since they had decided with Celegorm to follow their trails, hoping to get to the elves before they were slaughtered. The sons of Feanor did not hesitate even for a moment, though they didn’t have many warriors and their provisions were growing thin; every saved elf was important. Winter was coming and they were to return to the dwarves as well, as they had sent most of their warriors to protect refugees and help build temporary houses; the dwarves’ caves were too small for all of them. Maedhros had left Maglor and Curufin and they were supposed get as independent as possible on their exile._

_The fight was even. The elves were outnumbered, but they were the best scouts of the sons of Feanor, trained in battles – both Noldor and Sindar._

_Celegorm prevented the orcs from escaping, while Amras and his elves made their way to the refugees. They sheltered the unarmed elves from the enemy, when a scream of terror came from the river._

_Amras was the closest. He cut the nearest ork by the chest. He had no time to feel surprised by the fact that it was a child screaming, he just pulled her off the ground with his left arm, before an orc reached her with his sword. The elfling immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, hindering his movements. It was enough for the orc to cut him across his elbow before he fled with the others._

_Celegorm hesitated for a moment, torn between the urge to chase the enemy and the necessity of making sure everybody was safe, but he stopped his warriors. There were too few of them to split. Celegorm hissed as he pressed hand to his hip, trying to count his elves and estimate the loses._

_The refugees were picking up their possessions, still shocked by the attack and an unexpected rescue. One of the elleths was holding a boy by the hand. Now that the fight was over, the youngling was staring curiously at the warriors and he stopped only after being scolded._

_Amras saw him helping with the luggage, but he had more oppressing problem. The child in his arms, much younger than the boy, was wailing, clinging desperately to him._

_“Hush!” he hissed. “Shhh, it’s alright now, but be quiet,” he added more softly, as the elfling hiccupped, frightened by his harsh tone._

_They had to leave and do it soon, before the orcs realised that the elves had wounded and thus were an easy target. The girl calmed and hid her face in his cloak, so Amras treated her like another package and just fastened his grip. He moved to the front of the group to lead the way._

xxx

They almost lost them. The brothers met the enemy and barely managed to rescue the elves they were after. So now not only did they have eight refugees, including three women and a youngling, but also wounded who had been trying to fight off some new poison for the last week. The breaking weather at the verge of Winter forced them to make a longer stay to let the sick regain some strength, especially that they didn’t have a healer.

“There’s one more detail.” Maedhros waved his right arm carelessly. “We need to do something with this as well.”

Caranthir cringed, hearing that indifference in his brother’s voice again. Maedhros had not been given the time to mourn the dead then, when they were fleeing, or later, being hosted by the dwarves. Now, the closer they were to their kin, the more grim and silent Maedhros grew. It didn’t help that Celegorm was feverish and Amras was sick and furious.

“We have wounded,” Caranthir pointed out. “You’ll put your arm on a sling and hopefully no one will pay attention. We shall try dyeing in the morning.”

“Leave me out of it,” said Amras, moving away from the brothers. “If you want this to work at all, I cannot go. Redhead or not, I will be recognized. I was here a few months ago.”

He needed not to add anything else. If he was the one who had convinced people from that village to join their war, he was surely well-remembered.

xxx

_They walked as quick as they could. The forest was dense at times, forcing them to seek a passage. Three Noldor went at the back of the group, as they still half expected an attack in the falling dusk. So it was only natural they all drew their swords as they saw some movements between the bushes, before they realised it was the rest of their scouting party. Amras sighed in relief, trying not to see his eldest brother’s condemning look. It soon disappeared anyway, as Maedhros counted them and saw new faces._

_His arm, with which he was holding the elfling, went numb. Amras crouched and put her on the ground._

_“Ouch!” cried the child and tears welled up in her eyes._

_“Where?” asked the elf sharply. He had a closer look and noticed a hole on the back of her jacket, in the stain of blood he thought was his own. “Let me see.”_

_The girl stood in front of him, sniffling miserably as he undressed her from her dirty jacket and shirts under it. The blade that had slashed his elbow grazed her back as well. The cut was shallow, bur probably was the reason of crying. Amras cleaned it and put some ointment on, causing the girl to cry even louder. She quieted only after she was dressed again._

_“Done. Was it really that bad?”Amras smiled friendly, looking at her like at some kind of treasure. He had not seen a child for so long..._

_The little one murmured something and reached her hand as if she wanted a hug, but the elf was already on his feet, looking for something in his bag. He found a bag of dried fruit and took out a few pieces of dried apple, now partly crushed. The girl followed his every movement, looking like she could burst into tears any moment._

_“Eat.” Amras decided to pay her a bit more attention. He suspected she had no relatives, as none of the refugees had taken interest in her. “It’s good and sweet. Eat, you were brave,” he encouraged her clumsily._

_The child took the food obediently and started munching on it. Amras saw Maedhros livening up a bit among the new elves, helping them and asking for news._

_Caranthir noticed the blood on his sleeve and helped him dress his elbow. The others were getting help as well.  Amras thanked him shortly and turned swiftly, willing to talk to Maedhros, but he almost stepped on the girl who was standing behind him, holding the edge of his cloak._

_“Oh.” Caranthir smiled mockingly at his brother, seeing his surprise._

_The child shied away and tried to hide under the cloak. Amras took it away from her reach and noticed she was shivering._

_“Do we have something to make her a cloak?” he asked his brother, knowing he would know what provisions they still had._

_“I’ll find her something.” Caranthir grabbed the child by the arm and led her to their luggage. Amras saw him tossing a blanket over her, but he left her in his brother’s care and went back to his scouts. All of them were grim and silent, as they had lost a companion. They had left him there and they all knew there was no going back to bury him. No one complained, as they all understood the gravity of the situation, but Amras could see remorse that reflected his own._

_They were quite lucky, considering eight new elves they managed to save. Aphedir died, Celegorm was wounded and one of his scouts had visible trouble walking, which could be a serious problem, but aside from them there were three other elves who got grazed by orc blades._

_It could have been worse. Amras tried to tell himself so, doing his best not to remember there was Aphedir’s sister waiting by Dolmed and he would have to tell her about his death._

_Maedhros made him no reproaches. He had already managed to get to know the new elves and exchanged a few words with them. From what he had gathered, they came from various villages and met on road, then continued their journey, hoping to find a safe place to live._

_“And the little one?” inquired Amras. “Not theirs?”_

_“No.” Maedhros watched grimly as the new elves were trying to organize themselves. “ They found her two days ago among corpses and barely convinced her to get out of her hiding spot. You can imagine what she witnessed. They said she has not uttered a word, they don’t even know their name.”_

_Caranthir appointed two elves to help with the luggage. The child Amras saved was sitting motionless, clutching the blanket she was covered with. Caranthir glanced once or twice and noticed she ate the food he had given her. He was glad she wasn’t going in anyone’s way. The girl pulled the blanket on her head and followed something with her wide eyes. Caranthir caught himself watching her, as he had little to do at the moment. Intrigued by the changes in her mood, he followed her gaze. He didn’t need much to realise she was staring at his youngest brother, who was still circling their camp restlessly._

_Maedhros gave an order to depart. The elves picked their luggage, with the exception of the wounded and those who were supposed to make sure no one was left behind. Someone grabbed the boy by his hand. The youngling was watching the warriors with amazement, while the little girl was just moving away, until someone took her blanket. Then she stood up and walked between the elves, adjusting her new cloak._

_Someone realised the child would have to be carried too and he picked her. The girl made a surprised cry, then went silent and only tears were running down her cheeks._

_“Amras.” Caranthir called his brother, who seemed not to have noticed the child._

_“Hmm?” The redhead glanced at him carelessly._

_“Someone seems to prefer you,” remarked the older of the brothers, smiling. It was a rare thing these days, a smile. He pointed at the girl frozen in the arms of a dumbstruck elf._

_“Oh.” Amras just shrugged and came closer, giving his bag to his brother. “Take it,” he asked and took the child._

_“You got promoted,” smirked Caranthir, watching the silent girl wrap her arms around his brother’s neck. Amras placed her on his hip to get more freedom._

_“If it makes her quiet...”_

xxx

“It seems we really have no choice,” sighed Caranthir. “The little one has even stopped crying that she’s not with you, Pityo. As far as I saw, she hasn’t eaten anything.”

“If she feels as sick as I do, then I can’t blame her,” muttered Celegorm sleepily from his bedroll and Amras nodded grimly.

It was one of Maedhros’s elves who was taking care of the child this time. He was sitting close to the small fire and the girl was sleeping restlessly on his knees. Despite having been just grazed by the orc blade, she reacted to the poison worse than the adults. And as she had clung to Amras earlier, her current apathy was not a good sign.

“She needs a name.” Celegorm propped himself up and glanced at the sleeping child. “It seems unlikely she will give us hers.”

“Dinessel,” replied Maedhros at once, as if he had thought about it earlier. “We’ll see if she’s going to react to that once she’s better. Perhaps we will manage to make her talk to us.”

“Take care of her, it would be pity to lose her.” Amras moved from the wall and curled on his side, pressing his elbow to his stomach. “I’m staying here.”

“But not alone.” Maedhros tossed him one of the blankets that had already dried by the fire. “Is there anyone else who should not go to that village?”

“No. They are all dead,” replied Amras numbly and turned away from his brothers, covering himself tightly with the warm blanket.

  


 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long. I hope you'll enjoy the story. Just please let me know what you think.

**Part two**

The breaking of the weather did not pass during the night and the dawn welcomed the travellers with snowflakes dancing in the strong wind. They were melting, but it didn’t lighten anyone’s mood. Despite having spent the night in the relatively dry place, the damp chill seemed to drain the wounded from all the strength. Amras looked quite well when compared to the others, so Maedhros ceased insisting that they should not split. He wanted to reach the village as soon as possible and ask for shelter before it would be too late for some.

They moved as soon as Caranthir was done with dyeing his brother’s hair. The oak bark did the trick and Maedhros’s fiery hair got some nice chestnut shade.

“You look like Finwe,” commented Caranthir, looking critically at the effect of his work. “I wonder what Curvo will say.”

“He needs to see me first,” muttered Maedhros indifferently and hid his stump in a sling. Before they went, he ordered Nethanar and Himeleth, who were staying behind with Amras, not to care about human animosity and bring Amras to the village, if they decided he was getting worse. His brother must have heard that, but he said nothing, just wished them good luck and went back inside the shed.

Caranthir took the lead. They decided it was best for Maedhros to hide between the other wounded and not to draw attention to himself. No one was overly cheerful about the prospect of meeting the mortals, but they hoped the Second-born would show some compassion for the refugees.

Before they reached the first buildings, some men came to meet them. They watched the newcomers with suspicion and they kept their weapons ostensibly within reach. There were also some archers hidden between the houses.

“What do you want?”

“Help,” replied Caranthir and he moved in front of the rest. “We are running away from war, but our wounded have no strength to go on walking.” He didn’t even have to lie. They had been struggling for the last half an hour and Celegorm’s scout was barely standing.

“You look like warriors.” An elderly man with a scar crossing his face looked at the elves suspiciously. “We don’t want to have anything to do with those who led our brothers and sons to death.”

“Are they carrying weapons too?” asked Caranthir, irritated, and he pointed at the elleths and the boy. “How about her?”

Dinessel, held by one of the elves, was staring at the men with frightened and feverish eyes. Their foreign speech and harsh voices must have unsettled her, for she clang to her guardian closely.

“Is this an elven child?” asked some young man curiously; he was barely an adult himself. “Just like ours.”

“Aye, one of ours,” nodded the elf who was holding the girl and tugged the blanket tightly around her, trying in vain to protect her from the rain. “Morgoth’s poison is trying to take her away from us after we managed to rescue her from orcs.”

“We need shelter and some warm food.” Caranthir stepped in, seeing that the leader of the men hesitated. “We will pay and we can help you with daily chores and hunting. Our wounded need rest. So does the little one.”

The man with the scar looked at him judgingly, then nodded.

“Third house on the right, you should all fit there,” he decided. “It’s been empty since Summer, we don’t even use it as a storage house. You make yourself comfortable, and we shall talk,” he pointed at Caranthir, who exchanged glances with Maedhros and went as the official leader to trade.

xxx

 

 

Fire was lit at once in the large chamber that took most of the house. Wet clothes were hanged around and beddings for the wounded prepared by the heating wall. The room was a bit too small for all of them, but they didn’t want to ask for anything else. Despite rather friendly attitude of their hosts, the elves remained distrustful towards the men near the house. Even before Caranthir returned, Maedhros had discreet guards placed by the windows. He wasn’t the only one feeling that it would be all too easy to lock them in that house and burn them, if the villagers decided the elves were dangerous or wished to seek vengeance for all their fallen men.

It seemed, though, that the mortals had some compassion for the wounded, as soon fresh bread and hot stew was brought. Maedhros retreated to one of the windows facing a small garden, now abandoned and unkempt. His task was to stay out of sight and stay vigilant.

The rest of the day was mostly resting and repairing clothes and weapons. The wounded mostly slept, now that they were in a dry and warm house. Earlier it was hard for the seasoned warriors to fall into a deep healing sleep, when they couldn’t know if something would not attack their camp. Now, in a relatively safe place, they could afford it. By the next morning at least nausea was mostly gone and the elfling, for whom they feared most, livened up enough to ask about Amras. Maedhros, who was near her, silenced her at once; his brother’s name should not be spoken out loud. However, the improvement of her condition allowed them to hope that Morgoth’s poison would not take her from them after all. The little one was still sleepy and just sat on someone’s knees, but she was no longer the lifeless doll they had carried the previous day.

The child was valuable. Maedhros could see his warriors, seasoned by the years of protecting Himring and often grim, brightened when they looked at the girl, treating her a bit like a proof that not all was lost. Losing her would be a great blow into morale, fragile already after the defeat and after watching the desolation for the last two months. The child brought a bit of smile and if everything went well, she was probably going to be spoiled by the whole party. Someone already begged some milk with honey for her, someone brought an apple, finally someone was passing the idle hours by curving a small figure for her. No one was disheartened by the fact that the child mostly sat hidden between the beddings and if she spoke, she was just asking tearfully about Amras.

xxx

A group of men returning to the village attracted attention of both men and elves. Two of them kept Amras, pushing him and holding tightly by his arms to prevent him from falling. The others were holding his two companions. Their demeanour was hostile and they regarded the upcoming elves with visible distaste.

Amras tripped and one of the men pulled his arm, making him hiss.

“Hey!” Someone rushed forward. “Hands off!”

“Do you know him?” asked the leader of the human scouting party. “He’s a Feanorian, one of the Noldor princes responsible for our defeat!”

“What’s going on?” Caranthir came between the elves gathered in front of the house.

“We found them two hours walk away from here.” The man pushed Amras. “Is he one of you? He tried to resist us.”

“Give them to us.” Caranthir balanced between requesting and demanding as he came closer step by step.

“Is he yours?”

“Leave elves to elves,” insisted the son of Feanor, using the last of his patience. “Those are matters to settle between us. And he was not a chief commander there.” Above the human heads he noticed Maedhros standing at the doorstep and he groaned inwardly. He sent his brother a warning glance and fortunately Maedhros retreated back to the house.

“You are very well informed.” The man regarded Caranthir suspiciously. “Is he your commander? We have matters to settle with him.”

“No. But he is wounded, so give him to us and let us treat him.” Caranthir was already so close that he could have touched his brother’s cheek, if only he reached for it. Amras was wise enough to stay silent.

“Aye. Sick, like yours,” remarked someone. “Like those wounded you have laid in the chamber. Are they not from your party as well?”

“We’ve met many refugees on our way,” said Caranthir; truth was better than a lie forged on spot. “Many of our people have met some orcs. And those here need help, so let us help them.”

Many things happened at once. Behind Amras and his captors an elf, struggling earlier to stay upright, went limp in the hold of his guards. The Noldor moved uneasily, some of them grabbed their weapons, seeing that the men tried to haul the unconscious elf upright.

Amras jerked, though he could do little with his hands tied. The man on his left fastened his grip to hold the elf, who instinctively tried to free his wounded arm. The man took half a step back and suddenly stepped on a child, unnoticed earlier in the commotion. The elfling squeaked, frightened, and fell as she was pushed. Seeing her, the man hesitated and it was enough for Amras to break free.

Caranthir was not going to stand idly. With one step he was by his brother, he grabbed his arm and pushed him towards their elves. A dagger flashed in his hand; one fluent move and Amras was free.

The son of Feanor was not the only one who rushed to aid. The humans didn’t have time to react, as the elves grabbed the unconscious elf and the elleth who was trying to free herself; no one even drew their weapons.

Dinessel stumbled back on her feet and ran to Amras, as if she saw only him. She clang to his leg and only then did she burst into tears, shaking and embracing him closely, trying to make herself invisible.

The youngest son of Feanor bent and grabbed the child with his right arm. The girl immediately wrapped her arms around his neck and hid her face in his soaked collar, still weeping.

“We asked you,” hissed Caranthir coldly, removing his hand from the sword grip; he was the only one to have done so. The nearby Noldor moved closer, ready to protect him.

“This is how you repay our hospitality?” asked the human leader furiously. “You draw swords at our ground and interfere in our matters in return for food and shelter?

“We will pay for your bread and hospitality,” Caranthir reminded him. “But when the elves are concerned, it is our matter, for none of us will stand an elf facing human judge. And it doesn’t matter if we know him or not. Those here are wounded and they will get our help.”

“You are lying!” called one of the few young men from the behind; a barely adult again. “That child shows everything. This Noldor prince must have been with you!”

Caranthir turned towards the youngling, not even trying to hide his contempt. He could come closer and look down at him, but he didn’t have to; there was enough of ostensible patronising in his gaze. He just took a step forward, protecting Amras, who was holding the till crying girl; he seemed to be at loss what to do with her.

“We found this child alone on a battlefield. The only one who survived from the whole group. Who knows whom she has known earlier.” Caranthir just shrugged. A truth again...

“The elf may be yours, but he has to pay for our brothers and sons who followed his call,” replied the human commander again. “And he will face our judgement.”

“You will judge no one,” stated Caranthir firmly. “Take the wounded inside and take care of them,” he ordered his elves. “I will not change my mind. Leave him be and we will not draw weapons at your ground,” he warned them and followed his brother without looking at the men. He gestured at the elves carrying their unconscious companion to go first, then grabbed Amras by the arm, careful not to touch the wound. His younger brother walked firmly, but Caranthir could see his tension. He was boiling inwardly as well and he would have exploded, if not for the necessity to take his brother to safety.

“Moryo, take her from me,” hissed the redhead, as soon as they were inside. “I can’t feel my hands.”

“She’s holding herself,” snorted the elder of the brothers, but he reached for the child as they entered the chamber.

“Naaaaaaaay!” A tearful protest and tiny arms wrapped more tightly around Amras’s neck was the only response of the child. “Naaaaaaay...” her crying turned into a quieter sniffling.

“Dinessel, let go of me,” ordered Amras. “Or you will fall.”

“You were to watch the children,” said Caranthir to his eldest brother, trying to relieve some tension. He untangled the girl’s tiny hands and took her from Amras.

Maedhros ignored him. He examined the redhead, then looked worriedly at his companions. He said nothing about the incident with humans; it was plain to everybody that things had just got complicated.

“What happened? he asked, as Amras came eagerly close to the fire, massaging his wrists, numb from the ropes. Others were reviving the unconscious elf near the rest of the wounded.

“The wind made the shed collapse,” hissed the youngest of the brothers angrily and sat by the fire; now that they were alone, his movements were stiff and careful. “Nethanar got buried under beams and HImeleth had to free me first before we could dig him out. The Edain came before we had a chance to check his injuries.” Amras looked at his companion. Someone was helping him to get rid of his cloak and tugging him with a dry blanket. The elf seemed confused.

“That’s not good,” winced Maedhros. “It would be best to leave as soon as possible, but I see Nethanar is going to need a few hours of rest.”

“At least,” muttered Amras doubtfully. “The shed has fallen apart to the last board. We were lucky we didn’t break anything and that Himeleth was outside. How’s your head, Nethanar?”

“I’ll live.” The elf just shrugged. “But right now someone would have to lead me and I’m not sure how far I would go. I barely managed to get here,” he admitted.

Amras muttered something angrily and took off his wet cloak as well.

“We’ll stay as long as we need.” Maedhros pointed the nearest elf to replace him by the window and he grabbed a spare blanket. He tossed it over his brother’s shoulders, seeing that he didn’t intend to undress more. “Rest, we’ll see in the evening what to do. Hopefully we will leave at dawn.”

“I hope so. I’ve already had enough of this place.”

“Did they threaten you?” asked Celegorm, stopping mending his clothes.

“Me, yes.” The youngest of the brothers just shrugged, not really concerned. “It would have been worse if we had been armed, but we didn’t manage o get our things from under the boards. Right now I have only this,” he pointed at the knife in his shoe, which the humans must have missed.

“As if you needed more,” snorted Himeleth. “I’ll wait till dusk and go retrieve our things,” she suggested.

Amras nodded in agreement and assigned two more elves to that task. It would be easier to slip from the village unnoticed at night. There was no point in arising more suspicions among the people who were already seeking revenge for their fallen brothers.

xxx

Despite their earlier arrangements, the Edain refused to share their food any longer as they could not judge Amras. Caranthir wasn’t going to let them touch his brother and they would gladly have left, if Nethanar didn’t need some rest, at least till the morning, to be able to go. Celegorm and his scout were feeling better. Amras seemed sore, but fine to continue the journey. However, they were forced to wait.

The only one pleased with such arrangements was little Dinessel. Much to everyone’s amusement, the girl clang to Amras and would not leave him. The chamber gave him little space to escape her. Unfortunately, her behaviour, as well as the fact that none of the elves treated Amras like a prisoner awaiting trial, just proved the Edain that he was part of the group. Reluctance turned into animosity, especially at the recollection of the swords bared so quickly by the elves.

Maedhros had the guards doubled without even hiding it. He would have joined the elves outside instead of sitting idly in the house, if not for the fact that it was best to keep his identity secret as long as possible.

Just like they agreed, Himeleth left with two other elves to retrieve all their belongings from under the remains of the shed. They were not going to return, but meet the others outside the village. They decided to leave at dawn, even if it meant slowing the pace because of the wounded The poison was no longer life-threatening and everybody was eager to get back to the rest of the Noldor, before snow would fall.

Caranthir watched Maedhros discreetly for most of the day. He knew his brother was restless and it was only increased by his idleness and standing aside. He knew that if they would not leave soon, his brother was going to explode. In moments like this he regretted Maglor was not with them, as he was usually the one being able to soothe Maedhros. Unfortunately, when they left Dolmed, the singer was still recovering from the wounds he gained in battle and besides, Maedhros would never leave Curufin alone with the dwarves. As much as Curufin could get on with their hosts, Maedhros didn’t trust him and it was still hanging between the two of them. The eldest of the brothers intended to stay at first, but Maglor convinced him to go with the rest of their brothers and not sit in one place. Caranthir agreed with him eagerly, especially because Maglor had some experience in organising camp from scraps – he had proved that by the lake Mithrim. Maedhros could go when it was most dangerous, as usual. Just like Maglor, Caranthir too secretly hoped that it would keep him occupied and take him away from their defeat and Fingon’s death. Now that he watched them, he was no longer so sure they were right.

xxx

The morning was grey and grim and the yard was covered with the frost from the night. Winter was coming closely and there was no point in trying to see the sun; the thick clouds on the sky could only bring snow.

Everybody was ready at dawn. They carefully packed all the food Caranthir had earlier negotiated from their hosts. They could not count on getting any more provisions, but what they had saved was going to be enough for the first day. With some luck they would be able to go far away to dare to stop for longer and hunt.

“How’s your arm?” asked Maedhros, adjusting the sling hiding his stump.

“It’s weak,” admitted Amras angrily. He straightened his elbow, then hugged his arm closely to his chest and winced. “I hurt it yesterday. But the poison is mostly gone, so don’t worry.”

 “Can you carry something?”

“Of course.”

“Good. You’ll take the little one,” decided Maedhros. “I don’t want you to go in trouble and attract more attention than necessary. And you’re defenceless anyway,” he reminded his brother.

Amras wished he could object, but he had to agree. It didn’t really matter that he was still stiff and sore, but he could hardly do anything without his sword. And it was important to keep the elfling where she would not disturb anyone. They could be almost sure she would not leave Amras willingly.

 xxx

They were waiting on the road. Men, usually elderly, along with boys, looking like children in the elves’ eyes. Just a few adults, armed with whatever they possessed. There were also some women with sticks and prongs. Others were standing on the porches and in the gardens; their faces were unfriendly.

“We have some matters to settle,” said the man with whom Caranthir had traded. “He’s ours,” he pointed at Amras. The elves around him placed their hands suggestively on the sword hilts.

“We have this settled yesterday,” growled Caranthir; he had far less patience than the day before. “And as for the payment, here it is,” he tossed a pouch to the man, who grabbed it, but didn’t look inside. “Let us pass.”

The stern faces of the villagers suggested that they were not going to give up lightly. Despite the elf’s request, almost a threat, none of them moved. On the contrary, some of them stepped forward, raising their weapons. In response, some of Amras’s elves moved closer to him, ready to protect him.

“He’s responsible for the death of our brothers!” called someone from behind.

“Just like your kin are responsible for the death of our warriors and the fall of our king!” retorted Caranthir. In any other situation his eldest brother would have been surprised with such display of loyalty to Fingon, but not now. “Treacherous kind that brought shame on the Children of Iluvatar. And you dare to demand anything?!”

“Mind your words, elf, or your ignorance will be your doom,” warned him one of the elder men, stopping the overzealous boys at his left with one gesture.

Caranthir barely heard him. He reached for his sword subconsciously, his blood boiled. This damn mortal...

“That’s enough!” Came an order behind him and the man took a step back.

Maedhros’s steel eyes threw thunders as he made a few steps to stand beside Caranthir. He placed his stump on his brother’s chest, as if he wanted to prevent him from an attack. He kept his left hand on his sword, but he didn’t bare it. Caranthir knew he could easily move past his brother if he wanted, but his sudden intervention almost paralysed him.

The human leader stared at the elf with astonishment, but he quickly guessed his identity. Maedhros did not let him speak.

“We differ in customs, that is true, but you don’t really think that the youngest among us would be the leader, do you?” he asked in a calm tone that made the blood freeze. “If you seek the person responsible for strategy, my youngest brother was not that person. Make way and let us pass and we will probably never meet again. Touch him and none of us will hesitate,” he warned coldly.

Amras muttered something, visibly displeased that he was defenceless and needed protection, but the moment Maedhros decided to step in it was plain that he was no longer going to hide. Arguing with him, especially in front of the humans, was pointless.

“Morifinwe was wrong to call you traitors.” Maedhros continued calmly, using the name Caranthir had given them, He was speaking o the elderly man, as if there were no others around them. “But you are wrong, holding my brother responsible for the deaths of your kin. Traitors mingled with us and I as the leader am responsible for not spotting them in time.. The Enemy works with both sheer force and deceit, he has proven it more than once. I understand your thirst for revenge, but do not forget who is you real enemy. Touch Amras and blood will be spilled. Be careful not to waste it, as you don’t have much to spare. Leave it for the fight with the real evil. Our quarrels will only please Morgoth.”

 Caranthir blushed as he heard his brother condemning his words about their hosts, but Maedhros’s arm kept him in place. The people listened to the arguments of the eldest son of Feanor and some of them, especially the older ones, were willing to agree with him. Caranthir just forced himself to stay silent, but he could not help but wonder where did Maedhros find all that conviction. If he didn’t know him, he would have assumed Maedhros really believed in what he had said.

“Let them pass,” said the man at last, silencing the murmurs that arose behind his back. He came closer to Maedhros and looked him in the eye, not at least intimidated. “I shall regret till the end of my days the day when I let my people join your war, but I can see some right in your words. Go away and I hope we will never meet again.

The eldest son of Feanor nodded slightly. The people reluctantly stepped aside. Maedhros gestured Caranthir to lead, but he stayed, waiting and watching the man. He went only when Celegorm, as the last one, placed his hand on his arm.

“I don’t envy you. You are going to carry this burden far longer,’ said the man at last.

None of the elves tuned back to reply him.

 


	3. Part three

**Part three**

 

The elves of the sons of Feanor hastened their pace. Some buildings were already visible between the trees and the closer they were, the better they could see that the Noldor had had a busy Autumn. New houses were built near the dwarven caves. They were plain and not decorated, but they were going to give the refugees the shelter for the coming Winter. Wood and other supplies that didn’t require dry place were stored under temporary roofs.

The elven guards appeared out of nowhere. They kept their weapons down and they seemed relieved to see their commanders. Amras noticed with surprise that the guards were mixed, as two stumpy figures followed the two elves. It seemed Maglor and Vorindon were successful in cooperating with the dwarves, if they managed to take care of the safety together.

Amras was not the only one who noticed the guards. Dinessel, walking with the others, froze in terror and pulled the belt of Caranthir’s bag she was holding. Caranthir felt that and turned around to ask what was wrong, but the girl just swirled and ran to Amras walking behind them. She made no sound, but her tiny outstretched arms and tears running down her cheeks were plain enough.

Amras picked her and let her cling. He had already got used to the fact that the child was most likely to calm down with him and they didn’t need her to cry. He could feel her warm breath on his neck.

“The Naugrim are our allies,” he whispered to her ear. “Our friends. They will not harm you.”

Dinessel didn’t reply, just hid her nose in his hood. She froze and her breath calmed slowly. Amras let her stay in his arms, suspecting she must have been tired of walking.

“Is that all of you?” asked shortly one of the elven scouts after a brief greeting. He glanced at Dinessel curiously, but made no comment about one of the commanders carrying her.

“Yes,” nodded Amras. “Winter follows our steps.”

“And lord Maedhros?” one of the dwarves joined in. “Is he...?”

“He’s in the rearguard,” replied the youngest son of Feanor. “Don’t be surprised,” he smiled, aware why the guards had not noticed Maedhros on spot. Despite the rain and time, his eldest brother was still chestnut and didn’t stick out of the rest.

Seeing the coming party, many elves stopped their work to greet them and check if there was no lost kin or friends among the new refugees. Vorindon looked lost and worried at first, but then he spotted Maedhros and went to share the most important news, knowing well that his commander was going to demand that, no matter how weary he was from the road. However, Amras decided to get rid of sleeping Dinessel first.

Alcarino was on the place, seeking for the wounded as usual. He looked content when he realised that all made it on their own, but then he turned his attention towards Amras.

“Who is she?” he asked quietly, trying to see the child’s face.

“We found her,” muttered the youngest son of Feanor and switched to Quenya. “An orphan, very scared one.” Amras told the healer all they had learned about the girl. He spoke quietly, not wishing to wake her, but Dinessel didn’t even stir; she must have been tired indeed. He described in detail all the problems they had encountered with the poison, switching back to Sindarin; there was no need to agitate the refugees and the dwarves.

“Dinessel was hurt too, wasn’t she?” Alcarino caressed the girl’s silver hair and from the sudden grip Amras learned she was not sleeping at all.

“I think she’s fine now.” The redhead used his free hand to move a bit the tiny arm threatening to strangle him. “But it would be good if you would see to her, though I think she only needs a bath, some clean clothes and a guardian.”

Amras was not in the slightest surprised that the girl objected loudly when he tried to put her on the ground; the noise around must have assured her it was safe to speak.

“I don’t think she wants another guardian.” Alcarino smiled in amusement.

“I rescued her from an orc and she reacts this way every time I want to leave her, but it cannot go on like that,” sighed Amras. “Dinessel, that’s enough! Let go of me!” he ordered harshly. “This is Alcarino, our healer, and he will take care of you tonight. Go with him.”

Dinessel loosened her grip finally and allowed to be put on the ground. Amras had the feeling as if her tiny hand was about to crush his finger.

“Hello.” Alcarino crouched by the girl and smiled warmly. “Come, we’ll find you some clothes and something warm to eat.”

“Go,” Amras rushed her and took his hand away.

Facing the prospect of walking through the village full of strangers and dwarves, the child did the only possible thing – clang to the crouched elf. Alcarino whispered something to her ear and picked her up.

Amras watched them going for a moment, trying to ignore the big, teary eyes staring at him over the healer’s shoulder. Right now he had to face the grim duty of telling Aphedir’s sister about his death.

xxx

What Alcarino managed to achieve was that, once washed and changed, the child finally stopped crying for Amras. They were alone, just the two of them and the girl opened a bit, at least to answer the healer’s questions. She sat calmly in the trousers that were too big for her and in a shirt that reached her knees when Alcarino put some ointment and bandages on her sore feet, then she ate some soup and a loaf of bread with honey. Alcarino let her sit in the corner and didn’t bother her. She ate all he gave her, then tugged her blanket tightly around her and squeezed even more in the corner. Seeing that, Alcarino abandoned the idea of seeking someone who would take care of her tonight. She was too upset because of her parting with Amras, even if she asked only once about him.

The beds in the sickroom were empty. Dinessel didn’t want to leave her corner, but after a bit of prompting she let Alcarino carry her there and put her into bed, as she almost fell asleep in the kitchen. The healer made sure the child was warm and comfortable, then returned to his chores, leaving the doors open.

The evening was still early and the elves who had been wounded kept coming to talk to the healer, remembering his warnings. Soon Amras’s relation was enriched by additional details about the symptoms and the herbs they used, trying to neutralise the poison. The last chat was interrupted by the arrival of a dwarf who had got himself injured in some accident in the forges. Their hosts had quickly learned that it was worth to trust the elven healer. Only when he left, did Alcarino go back to the child.

The bed was empty and, as he quickly noticed, wet. Equally damp trousers were laying abandoned on the floor and Alcarino could see the blanket with which he had covered the child sticking from behind the last bed. He could also hear muffled sobs.

“Dinessel? What’s wrong?”

The crying stopped at once. Alcarino came closer and found the girl sitting between the bed and a chest. The child stared at him with wide, frightened eyes, her thin frame shaking with sobs. Her lips trembled.

“S-sorry, sorry, ss’rrry,” she exploded and pulled the blanket on her head.

Alcarino sighed and knelt. He carefully removed the blanket and grabbed the child’s hand. Just like he thought, it was cold.

“Dinessel, it’s alright,” he said gently. “I’m not angry. Nothing happened.”

“N-no? S-sorry.”

“Hush. Come, it’s cold here. Come on.”

Dinessel crawled from the corner and straightened her shirt, pulling it from her shoulders. The blanket fell on the floor, but she ignored it, staring at the healer with hope.

“To Amras?” she asked quietly. “P-please,” she muttered and looked at the floor.

“Lord Amras is one of our princes and he has many duties,” tried Alcarino, taking the child’s hand and leading her to the middle of the room “He cannot take care of you.”

“B-but...” The girl sniffled and sneezed. “P-please...”

The healer found a tunic that could pass for a dress, once it was tied tightly and its sleeves rolled. He changed Dinessel from the wet clothes, who was passive, save for occasional sniffling. Only when he turned towards the door, she must have misunderstood him, for she clang to his leg and from her muttered pleas Alcarino caught mostly the name of the youngest son of Feanor.

“We are not going to wake him now,” he tried one more time. “And you should rest as well. Then you can go to Amras in the morning, alright?” he suggested, taking the girl in his arms. He hoped she would calm enough to stay with him and go back to bed, but as sleepy and frightened as she was, she just started crying again, upset by the ruined hope of returning to Amras. No promises that she would not be alone helped, nor did the suggestion of sleeping in the kitchen by the fire. The girl sobbed and whatever had frightened her earlier and made her hide, clearly wasn’t going to let her rest. The healer gave up.

“Alright, we will go to Amras. Just for tonight.”

xxx

Maedhros welcomed them with an interesting glance as he saw the healer on the doorstep. He moved to let them in and closed the doors quickly to prevent the cold from creeping in.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s too scared to stay with me,” explained Alcarino calmly. “She asked about Amras.”

Dinessel, unmoving so far, jerked when she heard the familiar name in the foreign speech. She glanced at Maedhros and the healer felt her grip around his neck loosened, as if the child was considering whether it was safe to get down.

 “Amras cannot take care of her.” Maedhros came to the table, pointing his guests the bench. “I thought he told you that. I’m not going to wake him, he wanted to go in the morning with his scouts.”

“The Naugrim frighten her and she cannot avoid her in my place.” Alcarino fought off the resistance of the child and seated her on the bench, adjusting the blanket with which she was covered.

“I’m afraid I can cause nightmares as well,” pointed out the eldest son of Feanor. He must have noticed the girl’s eyes following his stump, for once not covered with anything.

“She’s scared enough to wet the bed and hide in the farthest corner without a sound,” added the healer. “Have you forgotten the times when you too trusted only a few and every stranger made you anxious?” he asked more harshly than he intended.

Maedhros jerked at his words, but anger flashed in his eyes only for a brief moment. He composed himself and sat by the table, where several reports from the last weeks were laying.

“I deserved that,” he said lightly, but the grimace of a smile didn’t reach his eyes. “But it doesn’t matter... You can stay here for now, Dinessel, if you don’t disturb us. We will find you someone later.”

The girl smiled at him shyly.

xxx

Alcarino left, but the child stayed, sleeping and almost invisible under the cloak. Maedhros moved a bit towards her to spread a map on the table more comfortably. He put some mugs on the edges to keep it in place and returned to the reports filled with Maglor’s elegant writing. He worked in silence, glad to be alone for once; in these conditions it was a luxury.

The candle flickered as the doors opened and cold wind came inside.

“I thought Tyelko was jesting.” Curufin welcomed his brother, closing the doors. He looked at Maedhros’s hair in disbelief.

“This?” The eldest son of Feanor tossed his braid on his back. “I hope it will wash out finally,” he said, though he didn’t really care. ‘You took your time.”

“We had quite a nervous situation.” Curufin shrugged and went to the plain shelf made of boards. He took a small jar and put some ointment on his elbow. “The work could not wait.”

“Ah, Alcarino mentioned some accident indeed. But are you still out of practice?” asked Maedhros calmly, pointing at his brother’s burnt sleeve.

Curufin snorted in response and looked at him, offended.

“The workshops of the Naugrim are good, but they are not made for the Eldar. It’s hard to get used to some things, especially when you’re in a hurry. But I am fine.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Maedhros returned to the report he hadn’t finished, ignoring his brother.

“If you needed to see me so soon, you could have come to the forge like Tyelko.” Curufin didn’t let him finish. His tone was light and mocking, as if he doubted his brother’s interest, but Maedhros didn’t have to look up to feel his analysing gaze.

“And distract you, like Celegorm clearly did?”

“A point for you,” agreed the smith. Changed from his working clothes, he busied himself with a late supper. He moved some documents Maedhros had put aside, but when he took the cloak from the bench, he froze in disbelief.

“Let the little one sleep,” muttered Maedhros.

“Now _this_ I really thought to be a joke,” admitted Curufin, covering the child again. “What is she doing here?”

“Right now? Sleeping.” The eldest son of Feanor gave up on his work and put the reports on two piles. “She’s going to need a guardian, but right now it doesn’t matter anyway. She’s scared of everything and she barely talks. She wanted Amras and Alcarino gave in.”

“This is that new companion of Amras? Bit little,” Curufin summed up. He poured some wine for himself and his brother, then made himself a bit of space at the other side of the table.

“She should not disturb us much. She has already won the hearts of most of our men, so I guess it won’t be a problem to find her a guardian, once she stops running to Amras every time something frightens her.”

“What, Pityo’s not eager?” smirked Curufin. “Nelyo?” he asked alarmed, for Maedhros froze.

Dinessel, moved by Curufin and half awoken by the conversation, moved closer and then a tiny hand curled around Maedhros’s right arm, lying loosely on the bench. She didn’t wake completely, but she must have felt the heat of the body, because she pressed her cheek to the stump, startling Maedhros completely.

“She can sleep here for now.” The eldest son of Feanor shrugged, careful not to wake the child. “Anyway, there’s no place anywhere and she won’t need much space. One we leave south, to Amon Ereb, we’ll assign her o someone.”

“For now.” Curufin smirked mockingly. “Of course.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and leaving me any kind of feedback. I hope the fluffy "nothing's happening" part was fine after all the angst in the previous two.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think.


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